Page 57 of Fresh Ice
“What didhewant?” Levy pouted. Alonso wouldn’t admit under penalty of death that he found it adorable when Levy did that.
Alonso raised his eyebrows as they made their way to the parking garage. “Just asking if I wanted to stay with him this weekend.”
Levy stopped short, yanking Alonso to a stop with him. “What?”
“Jeez, Lev.” He lowered his voice. “He thinks I’m an Alpha, remember? He was worried you’d get territorial.”
Levy’s frown cleared, replaced with a sheepish expression. “Oh. Right.”
Alonso laughed. “Yeah. How about we go home, eh? You nut.”
Levy was increasingly weird as the night progressed. He watched Alonso eat his post-game meal with what could only be described as ‘crazy eyes’, and kept asking him if he needed anything—a blanket? A drink? Some more food?
“Levy. Ijusthad supper,” Alonso said, trying to sound exasperated but feeling dumbly pleased by the attention.
“I know,” Levy replied as if the point were irrelevant.
“I’m fine, okay? I’ll tell you if I need anything,” Alonso promised.
“No, you won’t,” Levy muttered and, well, Levy would usually be right—Alonso wasn’t exactly known for asking for help.
“Normally I wouldn’t, but I’ll do it during the next few days, okay?”
Levy made a disbelieving noise but then acquiesced with an, “Okay.”
Alonso didn’t even try to go to his own room that night, Levy following him like a lost puppy until they crawled onto his bed. The sheets were suffused with Levy’s scent, now even deeper and muskier than usual.
Levy wrapped himself around Alonso immediately, and Alonso tried not to laugh.
“Isn’t the fact that I don’t smell like anything gonna make this harder for you?” Alonso asked, the thought suddenly hitting him.
“No,” Levy said, rubbing the tip of his nose up and down Alonso’s neck. “I read up on it. I won’t knot because of the lack of, like, pheromones. NotOmegapheromones, just pheromones in general.”
“Oh.” Alonso squashed the disappointment. Knotting was a dumb fantasy—the sex was great without it.
“But I’ll smell you when you get wet,” Levy went on.
Alonso was surprised into an amused snort. “Wow. You’re shameless like this.”
“Mmm. You feel good. Sleep,” Levy said.
Alonso had no idea how those statements went together, but he closed his eyes, drifting off easily in Levy’s arms.
*****
The next two days were…strange.
Yeah, Alonso hadn’t known what to expect, but he’d assumed it would mostly be getting fucked by a possessive and territorial Levy. And there was some of that, sure, but mostly Levy seemed to get off on taking care of Alonso.
Levy cooked every meal—even breakfast—from scratch, watching carefully as Alonso ate what he’d prepared. He brought Alonso cups of cold water or hot tea unprompted. While watching TV on the first afternoon, Levy gave him a foot rub so good it had Alonso melting into a puddle.
And he wouldn’t stop touching Alonso, keeping him as close as physically possible—crushing him into the sofa or the bed or the side of a kitchen counter.
It was absurd, and sweet, and so much worse for his heart than if Levy had just been a typical Alpha and fucked him senseless for forty-eight hours.
Not that Levydidn’tfuck him. That first night after the rut really hit, Levy dragged Alonso to the bed, stripped him efficiently, and then proceeded to kiss every fucking inch of skin from Alonso’s ankles to his forehead.
“This is where you belong,” Levy said lowly as he covered Alonso with his body, hard cock digging into him.
